


Wicked Game

by little_bean



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Missing Scene, Season 4 Spoilers, Season/Series 04, Wingfic, Wings, wing!lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 15:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19134742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_bean/pseuds/little_bean
Summary: "I think you should look. Maybe you’ll be surprised at what you find."The scene where Lucifer looks at his wings, at Chloe's recommendation. What was his reaction? What was going on in his mind?





	Wicked Game

**Author's Note:**

> After binging season 4 and wanting more, I was thinking about the scene we didn’t get to see. What was Lucifer’s initial reaction to seeing his wings return? Before he ran off to confront Tiernan, and then texted Linda in a panic?
> 
> SEASON FOUR SPOILERS. (duh)

 

_I think you should look._

_Maybe you’ll be surprised at what you find._

How long had he been perched at the bar, hands clutching the counter top, glaring at his own battered and disoriented reflection peeking through dozens of bottles of alcohol? It could have been seconds, minutes, hours… to him, time was meaningless. A year could be a snap to him, if he decided not to pay attention.

But right now, he couldn’t pull his eyes away.

With his shirt discarded to the side of the room, Lucifer’s naked chest heaved in apprehension. After Chloe and Dan took Trixie come and Eve left, dejected, he had been trying to muster up courage in order to follow the detective’s advice: to summon his wings once again and face what he truly was, find out his true identity. See himself for all that he was.

Why couldn’t he do it?

Of course, Lucifer knew the explanation. It was obvious, more obvious than anything before in his dispiriting life. He was afraid. Not afraid of himself, but what he would see when he looked deeper into his soul than ever before. He was so used into peering into pitiful human souls while ignoring his own; to truly examine his own state was unsettling, to say the least.

It was clear what the detective thought Lucifer would see – angel wings. But she was new to this, and despite her month-long journey deep into the books of the Vatican, there were things humans just simply did not understand, were not _capable_ of comprehending, especially when it came to celestials. She didn’t know how many times Lucifer had cut off previously his wings, or when Amenadiel caused his own fall and his own limbs rotted in front of him. 

With a guttural snarl, Lucifer thrusted his body away from the barstool, marching off to his balcony. Raising his chin to bask in the dim Los Angeles starlight, Lucifer closed his eyes. What if he didn’t even have his wings anymore? With his devil face returning, who’s to say he didn’t fall once again?

In, and out. The crisp, icy air interlaced in his lungs, giving him a sharp reminder of reality. The reality that he was just pathetic… unable to even look at his own truth in the face. And wasn’t that just as bad as lying? Avoiding the truth?

It was now or never, and Lucifer certainly was not the type of man to sit around and wait for what he wanted.

He wasn’t a man. He was the Devil.

He was also a child of God.

And nothing could hold him down, not for long.

Resolved, Lucifer nodded to emptiness, because he was as sure as anything that his Father was not watching. Clenching his back muscles, Lucifer squeezed his eyes even tighter, bracing himself for his answer. He waited for the moment where his feathers would brush the clean wind that managed to fight their way up to the top floors of Lux’s building. Or, he would feel the moment where nothing at all happened, and then he would know for certain: he had fallen yet again.

But, neither of those things happened.

With a gasp, Lucifer opened his eyes as he fell to one knee, barely reaching for the balcony fence in time to keep himself upright. The air circulating the penthouse felt like stones hitting his appendages, weighting him down like there were millions of miniscule attackers latching on and refusing to let go once they dug far and deep, finding security in his darkness. The whisper of light and breath from his feathers never enveloped him; instead, a deafening shrill of tightening skin and death shedding sounded around him.

In reflex, Lucifer shielded himself with his wings, trying to block out the pounding sound, the pounding pain that greeted him.

Instead of a peaceful, white light offering him solitude and grace, a sharp red and black shadow stooped over him, demanding him to be resolute, to be strong. To face the Devil that he was.

Trembling, Lucifer looked up, already accepting what he would see.

Fierce, powerful chiropteran wings stooped over his body, cutting him off from the rest of the world. In his hateful isolation, Lucifer roared into the night, throwing a hand at his distasteful wing. The attempt to claw failed as the leather felt like steel under his nails, the deep red coming back unscathed. Picking up a stone to his left, with a hint of lethargy Lucifer slammed the rock into his bone, waiting for the fateful crack he knew would not come. It was a grand lie he was telling himself, that he could cut off these wings at he had done is previous pairs. This set was as long-lasting as his banishment, as invariable as his wickedness. 

Was this really who he was now? All aspects of his angelic nature discarded, scarred, and destroyed. 

Returning to his feet, Lucifer shook his head vigorously. _No. I refuse to believe it,_ he thought, spinning in place. His mind was running wild, the agitation physically manifesting in his nervous pacing.

_I can fix this. I can fix this. I_ need _to fix this._

But what could he do? Chopping the damned things off was already eliminated as an idea; maybe he could simply glue feathers onto them? That would do it, right? A simple disguise. The replica he’d acquired from Carmen Grant were believable to humans. But it wouldn’t fool him, or his brother.

But wait.

 If Lucifer’s theory was to be believed, celestials appeared as what they perceived themselves to be.

That was it.

A singular thought pierced into Lucifer’s mind, pounding with his heart in a rhythm that would guide him to his salvation.

_Tiernan._

_…I need to find Tiernan._

_I need to prove Chloe right. I’m an angel._

Stalking into back into his penthouse, Lucifer bee-lined it to his bar. Awaiting him was a bottle of whiskey, ready to be poured. Draining the container, Lucifer swallowed every last drop in one swig. 

With a determined glare at his own reflection, Lucifer flashed his red eyes.

_I’m a motherfucking angel._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh I meant to post this such a long time ago… hope it’s still semi-relevant…
> 
> Btw what about that season 5 FINAL SEASON reveal? Happy about the renewal, bittersweet that it’s the last. I’m glad it’s ending on the writer’s terms, though; it seems like it’ll be the best season yet :)


End file.
